If You Want to Save Them (4)

The Hero had seen this catastrophe coming.

And she had prayed, with everything she had, that she would be wrong.

Always at her back, that vast Magi — a power that made even a mid-rank demon look like nothing. That presence had come at the very last possible moment, and it had finally shown itself.

And with it, despair.

The upper-rank demon that appeared clad in a black breastplate was not an opponent anyone here could defeat.

...For the first time in her life, she wanted to lean on someone else.

To stand up alone again. To raise her sword alone again and overturn everything. To save everyone by herself. She knew she was growing too exhausted to keep repeating that cycle.

Just one more step. If one more person died — if she reached the point where she could no longer hold on — she would break.

Her gaze found someone else.

In that desperation, what she wanted was not to save. She wanted to be saved.

Her eyes settled.

"Please..."

She looked at Argal.

The bond between them was a strange one. In her dreams, he had been the villain who brought the Capital to ruin. Now he was the devoted ally at the Hero's side — and her savior.

Where did a gap like that even come from?

As the Hero, she was not supposed to depend on anyone. But this once, she wanted to.

"Would you be able to help me?"

"...Of course."

The answer came without a second's hesitation. A vast current of mana stirred. As if he had prepared for this in advance, mana cascaded from his necklace like a waterfall — and he poured every drop of that power into his own body.

Franc, standing beside him, went white.

"Wait— Argal!"

Even the Hero, who could read magical power, Holy Power, and Magi all with her own eyes, understood well enough what that meant. Physical enhancement severe enough to wreck his entire body. Even if this fight ended, she realized, he would not be able to move for a long time afterward.

She bit her lip.

She had tried to lean on someone else. But Argal had given everything he had left. He had staked his life on this single battle. Knowing he could die — he had been the first to step forward.

The upper-rank demon was already moving his hand again, reaching to kill another examinee, when Argal's strike crashed into him. His dagger collided with the demon's hand.

Thunk!

The Hero had always shown her back to someone. The weak. The oppressed. The wounded. The good.

And now she looked at Argal's back.

That boy's back seemed to carry a burden far too heavy for anyone his age. She simply could not stand there and watch. If she was going to stand, she would stand facing the same way he did.

Argal did not even glance at the Hero as she rose. He spoke as if he were used to this sort of thing — and he encouraged her.

"...Argal."

At those few words, an emotion she could not begin to name surged through the Hero to the very roots of her hair. She had tried to carry it alone. She had tried to overcome it alone. But if the people who lifted that burden increased, one by one — the load would become as light as a feather.

Then Reinhardt drew his sword.

Shing.

"If we all die here, the numbers don't add up."

They had barely kept the examinees alive long enough to make it this far. If they died now, none of it would mean a thing. The man who had always looked at reason and reality raised his blade against an upper-rank demon.

Asel formed a spear in her bare hands.

"...A desperate struggle against an unbeatable enemy."

She smiled, just faintly.

"I like that."

Franc gathered a great swell of mana. Worry sat heavy on her face.

"Just don't push yourself too hard, Argal."

The examinees steeled themselves for death.

"Draw your swords!"

"We're surviving this!"

"This is the real last stand!"

Every last one of them raised a blade or readied a spell, and what stood there was something close to a single army. A cliff they could not escape from anyway. They would swing once, and then they would fall.

The Sword Saint roared until the veins stood out on his neck. That heat detonated like a bomb.

"There is only one enemy!"

A voice charged with magical power reached every person in that space.

"Never retreat!"

They hardened their resolve, accepted death, and took their stand.

"Then everyone can live."

Upon a peaceful plain near the forest, a fight to the death began. The examinees' battle cries shook the earth.

What is this?

Why is everyone stepping up to fight an upper-rank demon?

I had only stepped forward because of course I would, and said something to comfort the Hero, who looked worn down. And, while I was at it, pushed a physical enhancement far enough to wreck my entire body.

But apparently that was enough to move everyone. The Sword Saint, the Spear Saint, Franc, Laeli. Those four, naturally — and every last examinee had gotten fired up and drawn their swords.

I hadn't been aiming for that effect, but however it happened, it worked out. There was no longer any need to tap into Magi just to take down an upper-rank demon. With this much fighting power, we could actually kill it.

The reason upper-rank demons are terrifying is that if they put their mind to it, they can kill you with a single gesture. That overwhelming presence is what strips people of the will to resist.

But if everyone charged in ready to die?

We might actually win. Without the Hero's awakening. Without my black magic.

Holding that thought, I leaped in first to pull the demon's eyes off the others.

The sword in the demon's hand moved. Even with physical enhancement pushed this far, I still couldn't see it. No question — this was an upper-rank demon.

Whoosh—!

But I had evaded worse than that. I had beaten worse than that. A sword you merely couldn't see was trivial compared to the near-invincible swordsmanship the Sword Saint had possessed in his prime.

Dodge. Dodge again.

And then I used my magic.

A violent burst of light detonated in front of the demon's eyes. It clutched its face and howled.

Crack!

Attacks poured in at the same instant. The Hero's sword scored the armor. The Sword Saint's blade landed a blow. The Spear Saint's spear drove at a single point. Franc's magic flared bright and fired true, locked on the demon.

By the time the thing, battered from every direction, managed to collect itself, I was already in its face again, tearing its attention apart.

"And yet you're taking hits from those flies?"

The demon's sword whipped in every direction, but I was not so unskilled as to get tagged by a blind swing. Its vision seemed to be clearing — the blade came for my throat with murderous precision — but there was no reason to let that one land either.

The pattern for fighting an upper-rank demon was one-sided. I drew its eyes. I fired a spell that stole its sight. While it couldn't recover, everyone else poured on the attacks.

If we could repeat that forever, we would kill it easily.

But I knew better. We could not win like this. I could feel my body coming apart, starting at the joints, worse with every passing second. The upper-rank demon, by contrast, was still perfectly intact.

The reason was simple. It had something that swallowed every wound we dealt.

We had to destroy that thing.

The upper-rank demon took the hits, one after another, again and again. Each blow was no more than ants gnawing at a giant — but they added up, and everyone could see the armor beginning to come apart.

The one doing the most work was Argal. He never stopped pulling the demon's attention, then slipped out at just the right moment to open the examinees' attacks.

But Franc's eyes could see what the others could not. Mana draining away, bit by bit. A body starting to seize and grind from the overload. Argal was going to hit his limit soon — and the moment he did, people were going to die. There were not many here who could last in front of that upper-rank demon.

The thought made her desperate.

"Argal! That's enough — hand it off to someone else!"

"...Alright."

He nodded as if he had already taken a precise measure of his own condition, and signaled Reinhardt.

Reinhardt stepped in front of the upper-rank demon, every muscle tight. The thoroughly enraged demon launched a crushing attack the instant they faced each other.

BOOM—!

Once. A single blow, and his stance buckled.

CRACK!

Twice. That fine masterpiece of a sword came apart.

CRUNCH!

Three times. He crumpled completely, his blade driven down. He had met the demon sword-to-sword with perfect reactions, but the gap in raw power was so naked that his face went bloodless. And the next movement of the demon's blade was one even the Sword Saint could barely track. If it landed, it would split him in two.

Asel was the one who stopped it. Even for her, this once was the limit — if she clashed with that sword even one more time, she would break.

KRRAAAANG!

"Ugh! Stay with me—"

"There's no answer..."

Reinhardt fell back, the difference in class so severe he could see no method left.

Next, the Hero stepped in front of the demon. It moved its sword, drowning in rage. Argal did not join her in a combined assault. He advised her instead, and he looked as though he were preparing something — his necklace was blazing fiercely.

"Hero. You must not think of blocking the sword. Deflect it, or evade it. Nothing else."

"Understood."

"And when you attack — do it as if you're throwing your body away."

The Hero did not understand the last of it. Throw her body away? It was a genuinely dangerous thing to say. In a fight where sword-point met sword-point, there was no reason to do such a thing unless you meant to die together.

Did he want her dead?

...But everything he had done up to now was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠reason enough. She trusted Argal.

"I shall do as you say."

And she did. The Hero threw her body. She danced with the demon, blade to blade — not ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blocking, but driving her sword into the armor, giving everything she had to break it a little more, and a little more still.

And then something strange happened.

The demon's sword missed her. Every time.

Whoosh—! Whooosh—!

"What in the world...?"

Once or twice she might have dismissed. But as it happened again and again, even she could not help but doubt what she was seeing. There was no killing intent in the demon's sword. Something deliberate — it did not want her dead.

The demon, which had never expected her to throw herself that far, was utterly bewildered. Because it could never kill the Hero.

Argal moved into that opening. A magic circle more than three times the size of his body bloomed into existence, and from it, blue chains surged up and bound the demon fast.

"Now, Asel."

The strongest single strike among everyone here belonged to Asel. The only person who could punch through that armor was her. Argal knew it. He knew that before the regression, Asel had shattered this very armor with a One-Point Pierce. If not now, the armor would not break.

When Asel committed to an attack, the wind-up was long and the killing intent that poured off her was ferocious. Without a means to pin the target completely, the demon would always evade. Matching Argal's signal, she set herself for the One-Point Pierce.

Both eyes locked clean on the enemy. The muscles of her legs rooted her to the earth. Her upper body moved like flowing water. Killing intent and power gathered to a single point.

The demon thrashed until the last instant.

A single point. Pierced through.

PSHHHAK—!

But the attack, hollowly—

"It... missed..."

—thrust into empty air. Asel turned her head, her voice raw with frustration. The reason was close at hand.

Argal had gone to his knees. He spoke quietly.

"I couldn't hold on."

Every last scrap of strength had left his body. The moment he poured everything into that final spell, even the mana that should have been holding him together ran dry. There was not enough time to draw more from the Origin of the Star, and his body was already ruined — he had nothing left to cast with.

A miscalculation. His body had given out sooner than expected, and Asel's strike had come later than expected. They had bought a few seconds. But before the Spear Saint's blow could fully land, the chains binding the demon came undone.

The demon laughed. Because in the end, it had won. What did it matter that the small fry were still burning with fighting spirit, when the greatest threat on the field had collapsed like that — the opponent that had been even more troublesome than the Hero.

Still laughing, the demon let a killing intent so savage it froze every body on the field roll off its skin, and spoke.

Terrible power gathered in the sword. Argal had no way to evade. He did not even have time to jam a dagger ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his own hand and drag Magi up through the wound. The Hero was already charging from behind — but the demon's blade was faster.

Shunk—

The sword drove through a body. Argal's eyes flew wide.

What the blade had cut was not him.

A girl who had thrown herself into that vanishing instant spoke through the blood.

Laeli closed both hands around the sword that had run her through.